


Needing Space and Needing More

by krysnel_nicavis



Series: Random SPN Porn Collection [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, Destiel - Freeform, Fallen!Castiel, M/M, Masterbation, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, bottom!Castiel, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 01:50:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8602480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krysnel_nicavis/pseuds/krysnel_nicavis
Summary: While Dean’s restraint is commendable, human!Cas is finding his own patience wearing thin.  In which Dean becomes an accidental voyeur and decides he really likes what he sees.Destiel!





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is the longest thing I’ve written in a while. Hope you enjoy it.

The first weeks that Castiel had returned to the bunker had been coloured with a somber air.  Dean had been visibly guilty around him, no doubt beating himself up inside for essentially making his best friend homeless.  But, after the first week or so, Cas found himself unable to blame the elder Winchester. Dean had been so worried about his brother that he was willing to believe the words of an angel he’d only just met.  Castiel could only guess how hard it was for Dean to make the decisions he had.

As the weeks turned to months, Cas became more accustomed to his new-found humanity.  The Winchesters made sure to give him the space he needed to do so, and to settle into life in the bunker, and the continue healing from his fall from grace.  He appreciated it.  But as time wore on he found there was one aspect of humanity that space was not helping with, and he was unsurprised that it was something he wanted only Dean to help him with.

It had taken sometime and more than a bit of “testing the waters” on Cas’ part for Dean to clue into what Castiel wanted.  But the arousal that was so clearly mirrored in the hunter’s green eyes let Cas know that the want was reciprocated.  Despite Dean’s sometimes visible restraint.  Each time Dean looked close to acting on that shared want, he would pull away and give some excuse to leave the room.  (Cas needed time to sort _______ out, Cas needed space to sort _______ out, Sam needed help with _______, Baby needed a tune-up, Cas needed to rest and recover – whatever Dean had decided on that week.)

Each time, they’d get closer to taking that final, admittedly terrifying if exhilarating, step that they both so obviously wished to take… _so close_ …  Only for Cas to be left twice as frustrated as he’d been before.

Cas huffed in irritation as Dean retreated to the kitchen.  This week, Cas apparently needed to work on rebuilding his strength by eating more.  He stormed petulantly out of the library where they’d all been researching the Winchester’s latest case before Sam decided to make a much needed supply run and made his way to a room that he had taken as part of his domain.  It was a sort of sitting room or den, furnished with comfortable chairs and a couch in a rich burgundy colour that matched the dark stained panelling of the walls.  An assortment of artwork adorned the walls depicting various supernatural creatures.  In the centre of the far wall sat a fireplace façade, flanked on each side by a pair of medium sized bookcases in the same wood as the panelling.  The fireplace didn’t actually burn a real fire, but gave off a light and heat that imitated the flames.  He turned it on and observed the way the light played off his surroundings.  Dean found it a little creepy for his tastes.  The hunter preferred the fully stocked garage and a few of the workshops they’d discovered in the bunker.

Cas sat down on his favourite chair, trying in vain to quell the arousal that thrummed in his veins.  His hands running along the plush, smooth arm rests, the back of his head pressed into the cushioning.  He took a deep, steadying breath that did nothing to steady his need.  Thinking of Dean and the garage had him bringing up the image of Dean covered in a thin sheen of sweat, patches of grease staining his skin, his muscles flexing as he carefully worked on his beloved car’s engine…  Cas groaned and pressed himself back into his chair, gripping the armrests.

He took another breath and let his right hand slide up the armrest until it moved onto his chest and he caressed himself through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.  He enjoyed feeling the heat of his body on his palm.  Castiel relaxed and allowed himself to appreciate the sensation as his hand travelled lower, over his stomach.  He ran his hand in lazy circles along his abdomen, inching farther and farther south.  His fingers reached the hem of his shirt where it had bunched up just above the band of his jeans.  He teased himself, lightly brushing his fingertips along the thin line of exposed skin before slipping his thumb up under the loose fabric and gently rubbing the digit in slow, clockwise circles in the trail of hair there.  The irritation from earlier had ebbed away and all that was left was the gentle pulse of arousal that never really seemed to go away.

He pressed his palm flat against his skin and slowly dragged it down, feeling the growing hardness of his erection through the thicker fabric that hid it.  He gasped as he palmed himself, lightly squeezing, lightly teasing, as his left hand travelled up his shirt and began to play with one of his nipples.  He rolled it between his index finger and thumb until it was a hardened nub.  Alternating between massaging it in a circular motion with the pad of his thumb and pinching it.  He slid his teasing hand over to give the other nipple the same treatment.  All the while his right hand managed to pop open the button of his jeans and pull the zipper down.  He palmed himself through his briefs, taking note of the damp spot where his body’s pre-seminal fluid had already begun leaking out.  He slid his palm along his shaft, feeling its shape through the fabric, and sighed.

Having enough of the teasing, he pulled the t-shirt off and tossed it aside.  He ran his hands through his hair and down his neck, sliding them down the bared, sweat dampened skin of his torso to stop once they reached the hem of his briefs.  He pause momentarily, running his fingertips along the edge, before hooking his thumbs into the band and pulling both the briefs and his jeans down to rest around his knees.  He moved forward, closer to the edge of his seat and leaned back into the chair, running his hands along his thighs and up along either side of the erect shaft, brushing his thumbs along its base.  His cock twitched at the contact.

He reached into the side of the chair’s seat cushion and retrieved the small bottle of lubricant that he’d procured during one of his trips into town.  He snapped the lid open and, holding his erection in his free hand, poured an amount of lube onto his cock, jumping a little at the slightly unpleasant chill of the liquid.  He closed the lid and set the bottle slightly behind him on the seat.  He grasped himself more firmly in his right hand, coating the fingers of his left hand in the excess lube, and began to stroke, spreading the liquid substance along his shaft.  His left hand travelled lower, brushing past his scrotum, until it reached tight, puckered opening of his anus.  He ran his lubed up fingers in a circular motion in time with his strokes, teasing his entrance before dipping the tip of his middle finger in, breathing slowly at the intrusion.  He began pumping the digit in and out of the tight hole, alternating with the stroking of his shaft, little mewling sounds coming from his throat, a sweat drop slid down his temple.  When he was relaxed enough he inserted a second finger alongside the first, running the thumb of his right hand over the head of his erection, playing with the slit, gasping softly at the sensations.  He wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like to have other hands on him.  Other fingers in him.  Hunter’s hands. _Dean’s hands_.  He shut his eyes and pictured Dean’s hands as he stroked himself, finger fucked himself.  He pictured Dean’s hands on his cock, stroking him long and slow.  Pictured Dean’s fingers pressing into his heat, caressing his insides, going deeper, deeper, _deeper_ … all the way to his third knuckles.  Castiel gasped at the image.  His body gyrating into his fingers and hand.  He groaned and picked up his pace.  Feeling his arousal begin to edge towards its peak, he removed his left hand from his entrance and grasped hold of the headrest, he focused on firmly stroking himself in an ever quickening pace.  He threw his head back, eyes shut tight, and gasped loudly, chasing the climax that was coming closer, and closer, a-and… _“Dean!”_

He came in spurts, spine arched upwards.  Seminal fluid spattering his abdomen.  His breath coming in gasps.

When he was spent his spine relaxed down into the chair and he sighed contently… only to tense and the unexpected _“Holy shit.”_

His eyes snapped open and his gaze zeroed in on the door to his chosen retreat.

Dean was standing in the doorway, one hand grasping the doorknob, the other clinging to the door frame.

Castiel’s voice caught in his throat.

They both remained frozen.  Staring at each other with wide eyes.

Cas’ mouth felt dry.

He drew breath but found he could not utter a sound.

Then Dean blinked…

…drew in a shaky breath…

…and took a step into the room.

He kicked the door shut behind him and stood, staring at the debauched image laid before him, all glowing tanned skin and firm muscle.  His tongue shot out and moistened his lips, his hand reached up and he ran his thumb along the edge of the bottom.  He seemed in a trance.

”Dean?” Cas managed.

Dean blinked again and shook his head a bit as if to clear it.  Cas watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed before clearing his throat. “Hey, Cas,” he offered with a quirk of his mouth.

Cas looked decidedly unimpressed.  Was that really all he had to say?

Dean chuckled and shook his head, “No, but I don’t really think this is the time for words.”

Cas blinked, thinking for a moment that Dean could read minds before realizing he’d said that out loud.  He cleared his own throat. “And what time _is_ this for?” he ventured.

Dean drew nearer, biting his bottom lip.  He hesitated for a brief moment, an unsure look flickering in his eyes for a moment.  A determined look quickly replaced it and he moved forward, coming to stop directly in front of Cas’ mostly unclad form.  He licked his lips once more.

“You thinkin’ ‘bout me, Cas?” his slightly gravelly voice asked huskily.

Castiel gulped at the look in his friend’s eyes that, before now, he’d only ever seen in the eyes of a predator hunting its prey.  Suddenly unable to form words around the almost frightened anticipation, he nodded twice, eyes never leaving Dean’s gaze.

The edge of Dean’s mouth quirked up in a wolfish grin.  He slowly sank to his knees in front of the former angel. “When you think of me, what am I doing?” Dean’s hushed words made the only just calmed arousal stir in Cas’ veins. “Do I touch you, _Castiel?_ ” A shock of arousal jolted through him at the sound of his full name on _those_ lips.  “Do I put my hands on you?” Dean asked, reaching up and grasping the edge of his jeans and briefs, pulling them down farther to rest around his calves before he skimmed his calloused hands up to rest his fingers in the bend of Cas’ knees, running his thumbs along the bottom of his kneecaps.

Cas shivered at the skin-to-skin contact.  His arousal grew further and he could feel his body beginning to respond to it.

“Do I touch you like this?” Dean asked in feigned innocence. “Or is it more like _this?_ ” On the emphasis he yanked Castiel forward until his butt was on the edge of the seat.  He caressed the soft skin just beneath the inner bend of Cas’ knees before sliding his hands up the outer thighs of both legs, fingertips just brushing the bends of Cas’ hip joints before retreating.

Cas inhaled quickly, exhaling a shaky breath.

Dean leaned forward, face inches from the other man’s stomach. “Did that feel good, Cas?” He looked up, green eyes opened wide. “Did you like it?”

He paused. Waited.

Cas licked his lips and nodded, still unable to put thoughts to words.

“What about this?” Dean leaned farther.

Cas jumped at the sensation of a tongue on his skin.  His vision whited out for a second as he realized it was _Dean’s_ tongue.  He watched, fascinated, as the hunter licked the trail of seminal fluid off the once-angel’s human skin.  He felt his manhood twitch with the new wave of arousal.

 _“Dean,”_ he gasped, his body shivering.

“Shh,” Dean breathed into his skin. “It’s alright, Cas.” The calloused hands began massaging the thick muscles of his thighs.

Cas let his eyes fall shut as he focused on the sensation of Dean’s lips and tongue kissing, licking, sucking down his abdomen… of Dean’s nose nestling into the trail of hair that marked a path down, taking in his scent along the way… of Dean’s breath ghosting above his slowly hardening penis.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, Sunshine,” Dean promised. “I’m gonna make up for all those times I turned away.”

“Dean, it’s- I-I… _A-ah, Dean!”_

Cas grasped the armrest with one hand and the headrest in the other as a wonderful heat engulfed him.  Dean sucked gently, head slowly bobbing as he coaxed the slowly returning erection to build.  The only sounds in the room were Castiel’s gasping breath and Dean noisily sucking Cas to hardness.

Dean’s mouth let go of him with a noisy pop. “Does this still feel good, Cas?”

“Mmph… Mm-hmm,” Cas nodded, eyes still shut, and heard Dean chuckle.  Cas managed a more vocal groan with Dean took his fully erect shaft back into his mouth and swallowed it all the way down.  His eyes snapped open when he felt slicked up fingers sliding along the crack of his ass.  He hadn’t even noticed Dean reaching for the bottle of lube. “D-Dean,” he gasped when the digits found his partially loosened hole.

Dean slid his mouth off him again. “Was my sunshine getting all ready for me?” he grinned.

“Only for you,” Cas breathed, his words intense despite their hushed tone.

Dean’s expression sobered a little. “I never should’ve made you wait this long.”

Before Cas could respond to that admission, two wet fingers slid into his tightening entrance.  They stretched him back open and continued in.  Farther than he was able.  Farther than ever before.  Cas’ head fell back and his eyes slipped shut again.  He relaxed into the probing intrusion.

“Oh, _Heaven’s host!”_ Cas exclaimed as his abdomen muscles tensed and his spine momentarily bowed slightly.

Dean chuckled again. “And we have a bingo.”

Castiel frowned. “I don’t understan- _guh_.” Whatever he was going to say was cut off when Dean’s fingers brushed the bundle of nerves it had discovered.  Cas’ brain seemed to scramble as the heat of Dean’s mouth returned and his fingers continued their quest to tease the erogenous zone inside his body.  Cas grasped the chair harder at the double stimulation, breath hitching when a third finger was added.

It stretched, and burned, and felt so, _so_ much like the place he’d once called home…

He groaned as the digits rotated slightly in unison, teasing him, stretching him out as a unit…

Mewling each time his prostate was so much as brushed…

Barely noticing that his knees had lifted and his hips were gyrating between Dean’s fingers and his mouth of their own accord…

He was close… _so close_ …

“Aaah!! What the hell, Winchester!?”

Dean barked a laugh and looked at him both startled and impressed by the use of his last name.  He looked at Cas with a devilish grin and, instead of answering, grabbed Cas’ remaining clothing and managed to remove his jeans, briefs, shoes, _and_ socks in one go before tossing them all aside.  While impressed himself, Cas was still glaring at Dean for stopping right when Cas was about to reach his climax.

“While that’s nice, I believe you were in the middle of something,” Cas groused.

Dean smirked and stood up.  He undid his own jeans, palming his hardened length through his boxers as his eyes travelled along the expanse of Castiel’s nude, and very aroused, form.  He wet his lips. “Mmm. Sunshine, rainbow, and pot of gold in one.”

Cas was about to say something snarky when Dean freed his own erection from its confinement through the opening in his boxers.  He suddenly wasn’t sure if his salivary glands were trying to work overtime or not at all.

“Interested?” Dean grinned.  Cas nodded, eyes travelling up to lock gazes with his hunter. “Stand up.” Castiel did.  Dean grasped onto his hips and pulled their bodies flush against one another, causing them both to gasp as their erections brushed against each other.  He then spun them around and let go, taking a seat on the edge of the vacated chair.  Cas watched as he smiled seductively and snatched the bottle of lube on the floor and slicked himself up with a few lazy tugs, eyes never leaving the heavenly blue gaze.  They stared intently for a few long, want filled moments before… “Turn around and come here.”

Castiel did so.  He turned around and slowly moved back until Dean’s hands were on his hips.  Dean’s foot coaxed its way between his legs and he separated them obligingly.  He felt Dean’s lips on his lower back before being urged to sit down.

Cas straddled Dean’s thighs, feeling the hunter’s hands roaming up and down his back before massaging his ass then grasping his hips and pulling him farther back so Dean’s slicked up erection pressed against his backside.

He felt Dean’s hot breath behind his ear…

“Lift up,” Dean breathed.

Cas grasped Dean’s knees for leverage and lifted his hips, allowing Dean to guide him into position, and lowered them when encouraged to.

He gasped a shaky breath when the head of Dean’s penis pressed against his opened hole…

_“Dean…”_

Dean kissed the middle of his back, breath coming out in staggered puffs…

He lowered himself farther… let the head slip past his ring… and farther…

Slowly… slowly… _slowly…_

They both sighed when he was fully seated.

“Fuck, you feel absolutely perfect, Sunshine,” Dean breathed. “Fucking perfect.” He held Castiel’s hips, thumbs rubbing circles into the tanned skin.

Castiel clenched lightly and relaxed.  He leaned back until his back was pressed completely against Dean’s chest.  He reached back and tangled his hand in Dean’s hair. “You feel better, _Dean.”_

Dean groaned and moved his hands to grasp under Cas knees, lifting them up.  Cas’ free hand rested on top of Dean’s as the hunter lifted him up and off of his shaft until just the head remained inside Cas’ heat.

He lowered Cas in a controlled drop, their skin slapping together.  Castiel let his own head drop back onto Dean’s shoulders as he was fucked onto the hunter’s dick.  Their combined sweat making their skin slide easily against each other.

“Oh, Dean,” he groaned out. “Mmm, Dean. Dean, Dean, _Dean,”_ he panted each time the man beneath him brushed his prostate.

Dean kissed his neck. “Does that feel good, Cas?” he breathed into his ear. “Do you like it?”

“Dean, _hah-ah,”_ Cas mewled. _“I love you.”_

There was a sharp intake of breath and it hit him what he’d just said.

“D-Dean I-”

Dean grasped Cas’ legs more firmly and stood. _“Cas…”_ He lifted Cas again and, when he lowered him, thrust forward.

 _“Oh fuck. Dean!”_ Cas screamed in pleasure as Dean suddenly slammed into him.

Dean began thrusting into Cas and a faster pace, Cas scrambling to hold on.  Fingers slipped against Dean’s sweaty shoulders and arms.

“Cas. _Holy fuck_ , Cas,” Dean shouted.

Dean was managing to hit his new favourite erogenous zone one every other thrust.  Before long Castiel was babbling in Enochian.  He felt like he was falling apart and being remade all at once.  Another thrust… two… three… seven… he was coming undone…

In between the Enochian Dean could make out his own name before Castiel tensed up and roared, almost ripping Dean’s hair out with how hard he was pulling where he’d grabbed on with both hands.

The sight of this creature of the Lord falling completely to delicious pieces in his arms was enough to push Dean over the edge.  Almost without warning he was ejaculating harder than he ever had in his life deep into his beloved angel, growling into the man’s shoulder.

When they finally came back down into their bodies from whatever heights they’d ascended to, Dean was kneeling and Cas was mostly on all fours with his forehead pressed to the carpet, both gasping for air.

It took a while for them to regain most of their breath… and it took a while longer to regain control over their bodies.

Dean slipped out of Cas when he was fully soft, and collapsed onto his side on the floor next to him.  Cas straightened his legs and lay on his stomach, head turned towards Dean.

They stared at each other, still breathing ragged.

Dean reached over and smoothed Cas’ sweaty hair back.  Hand resting at the base of the man’s neck.  He opened his mouth as if to say something but nothing came out.  He shut it again and just looked into Castiel’s eyes.

Castiel smiled softly.

He shuffled closer to Dean.  He leaned in close until their noses brushed… and paused…

“I know, Dean,” he whispered.

Dean leaned in and kissed his lips.

\- 30 -


End file.
